


Take my hand

by thefirstwhokneels



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Community: norsekink, Gen, Holding Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefirstwhokneels/pseuds/thefirstwhokneels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“He knew nothing about seidr but holding hands was a protecting charm in his mind, something he superstitiously insisted on beyond rationality.” </em><br/>Or five times Thor held Loki’s hand, and one time he didn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take my hand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this Norsekink prompt: http://norsekink.livejournal.com/11219.html?thread=25390291#t25390291  
> I think I didn't exactly follow all instructions in the prompt, so forgive me, OP, if it is exactly what you did not want.

**Take my hand**

**1.**

They were invited by Alfheim, and Father said it was important for everyone to see the heirs of the King of Asgard so the whole family prepared for the journey. It was Thor’s first ceremony, and he should have felt really princely, clad in heavy samite and delicate ornaments, but it only made him fidget uncomfortably because he had to make sure his garments stayed pristine. He stole a glance at his younger brother, and couldn’t help but feel amazed how Loki, at so young age, could wear the brocade and golden torque so gracefully.

They were trailing before their parents, all slowly to adjust to Loki’s pace who was still young and short and wasn’t allowed to run around wildly and unattended as Thor. When they made their way toward the Bifröst, however, excitement overrode Thor’s discomfort and he ran forward with a happy cry. He not only had never travelled with the Bifröst but even stepping alone on the bridge was forbidden, and Heimdall always made sure to warn him even before the idea of sneaking there as much as formed in Thor’s head.

“Thor, behave like a prince should,” Odin called after him but Thor was already at the edge of the bridge, gazing down at the crystalline waterfalls and pearl stars scattered around far beneath. “Come away from the edge.”

“Yes,” he said but he didn’t budge. He crouched and touched the surface of the bridge and laughed as it colored his skin in millions of funny tones.

“Thor, did you not forget something?” their mother called more gently, and at that time Thor still didn’t see how it always managed to coax him into obedience where his father failed with the harsh words and threats.

Thor straightened, startled enough by the idea that he might have missed something important. He reached back to make sure he wore the scarlet cape he was so proud of. The slender, silver winged circlet sat on his head, too.

“You forgot to protect your brother, my dear,” Frigga smiled at him. “Maybe you are old enough to walk to the edge alone but you do not wish him to fall off, do you? Hold Loki’s hand.”

Thor felt so frightened for a minute that he stood there rooted to the spot. Loki was indeed standing only a few steps behind him, green eyes huge and almost contemplating as he studied the stripes of light beneath his feet, the stars beyond the bridge, enraptured and somehow more perceptive than it could be expected from someone so young.

“I am old enough,” Loki gazed up at him seriously and approached him with the indignant look that he surely picked up from Thor.

The fear that Loki might trip and fall over the edge gripped at Thor’s stomach with its icy talons. He intercepted his brother’s way, slipped his hand in Loki’s and hurried back to his parents, dragging Loki along. They continued their way, walking down the bridge silently, solemnly, except for one moment when Loki looked up at him with wondering eyes and said. “It hurts.”

But he didn’t move to pull away, only regarded Thor with wise, old eyes that Thor was sure could read the fear straight out of his heart and see the long lines its talons left on it. Still, he loosened his grip a bit, and glanced back at their mother.

“If I hold his hand, no harm will come to him, yes, Mother?”

Frigga stroked his sons’ hair as they arrived to Heimdall’s Observatory and smiled. “No harm, my dear.”

 

**2.**

Playing hide and seek or tag with Loki was always a losing game for Thor. Loki could find nooks that Thor had never even thought of, forcing him to wander the grounds all day while Loki was chuckling at him in his hiding place until Thor finally gave up and called him. And Loki was also quick, despite being younger, he could easily outrun Thor if not in long distances where Thor’s stamina was an advantage Loki didn’t possess.

So when Thor was the one to decide, they played games where it was all about strength and skills, and Loki followed him everywhere albeit begrudgingly. They would climb the hills behind the palace, hop over the stones scattered across the cold stream jingling and rushing away at the border of the grounds, follow the traces of animals to the edge of the forest they were not allowed to enter.

One time they climbed the great oak in the middle of Mother’s orchard, Thor running up, using the branches as if they were but a ladder, paying no heed to Loki’s warning as he followed him with breath caught in his throat.

“It is an old and wise tree. We should not hurt it. If you listen closely, it whispers truth and secret knowledge.”

Thor laughed at him. Loki always said strange things and Thor never could decide about half of them if they were true or tales Loki forged to amuse him. He wondered if even Loki knew it. 

“It is but a tree, Loki. Let’s see who can climb higher.”

Eventually Thor could. Loki didn’t even get halfway up the oak when a branch gave away under him, and with a horrible crack and thud he landed on the ground and didn’t move. For a second everything else seemed to come to a halt, too. Thor sat among the branches like a frightened bird and wished it was he lying on the ground instead of his little brother. His heart pounded wildly, hammering two words into his mind with each throb, an eternal fear he would never be able to erase from there again.

Loki fell.

Thor climbed off, his brother’s name spilling from his lips in long wails, cries so small and painful, each of them strangled by the thuds of his heart because _Loki. Fell_.

Loki fell, and it was because of Thor. Loki fell because he didn’t hold his hand.

Mother was right, Thor realized, half-blind with tears and simmering fear. If he didn’t hold Loki’s hand, harm would find him.

“Brother,” he croaked, and Loki opened his eyes, dazed and cringing in pain. His gaze was awash by tears, each pearly bead matching Thor’s own.

“We broke a branch,” he mumbled as Thor leaned over him. “Mother will be very angry.”

“That’s only a silly tree.” _And you fell._

Thor grabbed the white slim fingers and held tight, maybe to make up for all the occasions he _did not_ hold it, but it was only a veil-thin bandage on his guilt. _I will hold your hand. Just don’t fall again._

Later that day when they returned to the palace, Loki limping by Thor’s side, Mother was very upset. She rarely raised her voice but now he scolded them with angry tears in her eyes, and Thor thought she was sad about the oak so he swore he would plant another one.

It was only years later that Thor understood it was dread over losing one of his sons that laced their mother’s voice.

The same dread Thor later learnt to know all too well.

 

**3.**

They stole a few of Idunn’s apples. It was Loki’s idea but –as Loki said with a smirk as they jumped over the fence surrounding the garden and ran down the alleyways toward the royal palace– if anyone asked, it was Thor’s. Thor only laughed and tried to tackle him from behind but Loki was quick and slippery like a beautiful snake and escaped his grasp.

The main marketplace was packed with people, blocking every way except for a narrow aisle in the middle. As Thor weaved through the crowd, his eyes fixed on Loki’s ebony locks always a few steps ahead, always just out of reach, he remembered they had a horse guards parade that day when the Einherjar and Palace Guards would ride out in their ceremonial armor, in feathered helms and billowing capes, greeting the people with waves and nods. It was the midsummer celebration that night with bonfires and music, mead flowing endlessly. The houses along the way were decorated with colorful ribbons and flags, flowers were scattered everywhere, even beneath their feet. Thor tried to double his pace to catch up with Loki. He should have grabbed his hand before they jumped headfirst into the crowd so not to lose sight of him.

“Lo-,” Thor bit his tongue. Right now he really didn’t want to call attention on them in the middle of the crowd, the Princes of Asgard with Idunn’s stolen apples in their haversacks. Annoyed, he called out, “Brother!”

But Loki either didn’t hear him or simply didn’t care. They should have already been back in the palace, their presence required beside their father when the march would arrive at the royal court. How could both of them forget it so easily?

Thor fought his way to the back of the crowd and looked around but there was no sign of Loki. He peeked in the closest alleyway but it was deserted. He slipped to the next, and indeed, his brother was barreling down and disappearing behind a turn. Thor set off running, too.

“Loki!” he boomed as he closed in, and the reply was a long breathless laughter.

“So slow, brother, you will never catch me,” and Loki let out a victorious teasing squeal.

There was a low rumble Thor’s ears caught beyond the thuds of their feet against the cobblestones, and he realized what it was at the same moment when he realized Loki failed to hear it over his own laughter. Just a few yards ahead, the alley opened into a wide road, and with an enormous leap driven by dread, Thor lunged after his brother and pulled Loki back by his tunic with a violent grab that sent the apples flying out of Loki’s sack and rolling on the road. Loki fell back against his chest with a slam that drove the air out of their lungs, but Thor’s arms immediately closed around his shoulders like a vice. Numbly, they watched as just a split second later the Einherjar rode down the road, the hooves of their horses clattering wildly against the paving in a speed that was far from the pace of a parade.

“My apples,” Loki whined as the horses trampled over the scattered fruit, and relaxed boneless in Thor’s unwavering embrace.

“You,” Thor croaked into his hair, and his voice was thick and completely broken while his arms tightened around Loki yet another notch.

 _You._ Branch of a silly oak. Silly apples from Idunn’s garden. None of any value. _I have you._

Loki could feel Thor’s heart beat rapidly against his back, and suddenly he wasn’t sure it was due to the exertion of their run. He was trembling around him. Loki twisted around in his arms and looked up at him with a soft smile. The ghost of fright was still apparent on Thor’s face.

“Brother,” he whispered, and soothed the creases on Thor’s forehead with a cool touch. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“I didn’t hold your hand,” Thor mumbled dumbly, and Loki blinked at him, puzzled. “I almost—“

He swallowed, unable to finish the sentence. _Almost lost you_. Even the mere thought was unbearable, so instead he simply pulled Loki into a hug and swore to himself for the hundredth time that he would never be lax again in protecting his brother.

 

**4.**

“Thor,” Loki called after him, snatching his brother’s arm to pull him back to the cover of the alley. “You are not planning to march out in your shining armor and cape, are you?”

Thor’s expression betrayed exactly that, and Loki sighed with an overdramatized roll of his eyes.

“People of Midgard wouldn’t take it too well. You might end up in their infirmary for insane.”

Thor peered out and watched the people walk by in undoubtedly different (and funny) style of clothing, and not for the first time, he had to admit Loki was right.

“I didn’t participate in your experiment so I would return to Asgard without taking a look around here.”

“I wasn’t planning that either,” Loki pulled him closer, spreading his palms over Thor’s shoulders, not touching, only hovering above them. “We need to celebrate!”

He had been experimenting with interplanetary travel without using the Bifröst for years now, and when finally he succeeded in a jump that didn’t end up in a mess, he was too joyous and made the mistake of sharing his enthusiasm with Thor. Of course, his brother wanted a show, and now they landed on Midgard (somewhat ungracefully but it didn’t really bother either of them).

“So you conjure a proper outfit for us? I hope your magic isn’t something that evaporates because I do not wish to end up naked,” Thor smirked.

Loki huffed. “How about I redress you as a beggar? Or a maiden?”

Thor laughed, and watched his brother wave his hands in complicated gestures.

Thor hadn’t been on Midgard ever since their childhood, and even then it was brief, in their father’s company who wanted them to see other realms as well. As he studied the people and vehicles on the street beyond the mouth of the alley, it seemed to him Midgard had changed a lot over the previous centuries.

“This will do,” Loki patted him on his arm, and adjusted the thin scarf with fragile lacing around his neck. Thor looked themselves up and down and laughed again. They wore thighs and knee breeches, with long form-fitting coats and shoes that were balancing on raised heels.

“We look like Mother’s peacocks, Loki,” he grumbled as Loki tied a black velvet ribbon in his hair, restricting the rather unkempt golden locks.

“Only I do, dear brother. You look like a boar in a drag. Just slightly better than as a bride,” Loki smirked at him above his shoulder as he stepped out of the alleyway. Thor followed him with a huff, remembering the time when Loki tricked him into dressing as a bride because he saw no other way to retrieve Mjölnir. Thor still wasn’t sure it was really the truth.

Outside it was a cacophony of many unpleasant things: noise and crowd and smell that hit Thor in the head. There were horse-drawn carriages barreling down the road from every direction with occasional lone riders galloping among them, and before he thought twice about it, Thor’s hand flew to Loki’s and grabbed it tightly. As an answer, Loki’s fingers wound around his, and they crossed the street hand in hand, on the last few yards speeding up to jogging as a vehicle rushed in their direction, and Thor dragged Loki into safety with a hasty tug.

“Maybe it wasn’t a bright idea to stay,” Thor murmured but Loki only snickered at him as Thor pulled him farther from the road as they walked. People passed by, giving them strange looks Thor could not interpret, so he scowled back darkly. “What happened to these Midgardians all these years?”

Loki stopped, and Thor halted as well, pulled back by their still entwined hands. “Maybe we are too old for this,” Loki smiled faintly, and lifted their hands with a gentle squeeze.

“Midgard is dangerous,” Thor frowned. “I don’t care what they think.”

Loki pulled his hand out of Thor’s grasp and smoothed a crease on Thor’s waistcoat.

“It is only strange and different, no more dangerous than any other realms. Do not worry that much, brother. Let’s go and find a charming inn. I’m starving.”

Thor laughed, knowing well how his brother could eat more than anyone would give him credit.

“And I’m thirsty,” he added with a slap on Loki’s back, leaving his arm casually there because if he could not hold his hand, at least he would guard his back.

 

**5.**

The sun descended behind the horizon, giving way to shadows that crept over the battlefield while the Asgardian army waited less and less patiently. The Dark Elves didn’t show any sign of either an attempt at negotiation or outright attack. Thor had the inkling they were biding the time till nightfall, and he didn’t like the idea.

He was standing in the front rank, as always, his friends, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif just around him, and Thor fidgeted uncomfortably because this time Loki was standing by his side, too.

It wasn’t going to be Loki’s first fight but Thor couldn’t help himself. The whole scenario with the Dark Elves reeked of trouble, and the last thing he wanted was to worry about his less experienced brother while he fought the enemy. He knew Loki could handle himself just well, his daggers and throwing spikes just as much his weapon as magic and illusion, but making sure he was fine was second nature for Thor.

When small lights started to flicker to life across the field, indicating the first movements in the enemy’s rows, his hand slipped in Loki’s and he gently squeezed it. It went naturally by now, holding hands; seeking the graceful fingers and enveloping them in his calloused ones, and making himself believe they could defy even Fate itself this way.

Loki glanced at him with an amused smile and suddenly Thor couldn’t decide who he was trying to reassure more: Loki or himself.

“I will protect you, brother, worry not,” Loki winked at him, and Thor’s laugh was a strangely relieved one.

He saw that in the row behind them Sif was watching them curiously, dropping his gaze at their joint hands and raising an eyebrow at him. Thor returned the gaze rather nonplussed. Maybe Loki had been right and they were too old for holding hands now but he didn’t care. The constant fear and guilt were his burden only, not theirs, it was he who stayed up at nights, feeling the fright gnaw itself deeper in his guts after snapping out of a nightmare.

“Stay close to me, Loki, so I would see you are doing well.”

Loki tipped his head to the side, giving him a long look. He knew his brother: in the heat of the battle when bloodlust flooded his mind, he paid no heed to his surroundings. He could replace himself with a troll, and Thor would be none the wiser. A smirk tugged at his lips but Thor scowled at him.

“I am serious, brother. Promise me,” and he yanked Loki closer by his hand for emphasis. Loki untangled their fingers and his hand fell on Thor’s shoulder instead, patting it.

“I will try.”

Thor knew his brother that much to understand it was the most he could get out of him as a promise. And it had to be enough this time.

 

**+1**

Once he had asked Loki if the simple touch of their hands could hold magic. He knew nothing about _seidr_ but holding hands was a protecting charm in his mind, something he superstitiously insisted on beyond rationality. Loki had laughed at him and quizzed whether Thor asked it because he wanted him to hold his hand while Thor walked down the aisle to the dais the following day. Thor smirked and bade him goodnight instead.

It was the evening before his coronation.

Maybe it was bad luck that he didn’t accept Loki’s offer. He should have known harm would eventually find them because it always did. It was bad omen. Whatever Loki said, there was _seidr_ in their handholding.

So now, when the whole world exploded, shattered and toppled upside down, when nothing made any sense anymore, his fingers curled around the cold metal of Gungnir and he thought of pulling it up, close enough for him to reach out with his other hand and grab Loki’s. Because this was how it had to be. Because he had failed before not once, because he had been late before not once, but it never had been _too late_.

And suddenly as he locked his gaze with Loki’s, his brother hovering above the dots of stars, with the broken Bifröst casting its rainbow shine on them, leaving only the dark purples, the dark blues in Loki’s eyes, Thor remembered an old day when it all began. A faraway day on the Bifröst, the bridge whole and glorious back then, he remembered his little brother drawing close to the edge, and Mother’s warning to watch out for him.

Now both of them were over the edge.

And Thor saw it before it happened because finally one time it had to be _too late_. Because this was where it started, so maybe it had to end here.

“Loki, no!” he cried, and watched the scene that had been keeping him in a tight bundle of terror ever since that old day unfold.

Mother was right.

Eventually, because Thor was slow, because he didn’t watch out hard enough, because he didn’t hold his brother’s hand when he needed to, Loki fell.

 


End file.
